Getting Debriefed Over The Weekend (Another Pookieism)11/14/2011 7:49:46 AMMy guy returned this weekend from the lair of the Grandmonster and he brought new technology and sarcasm with him! Swell. More $hit I don't understand.His full name: Pookalicious Wookie Buns. My shortened name for him: Pookie. His mission: to serve as the official ambassador to the Grandmonster from everyone else in the modern, mortal and civilized world. His preferred language: sarcasm. His primary form of torture on his loving, wholesome and angelic partner: sarcasm. The only known response to this form of torture from his aforementioned loving, wholesome partner: sarcasm. His secondary form of torture: introducing new technology. The only known response to this form of torture: unknown. Yes, my guy was in for less than 24 hours this weekend and when he flew back out, my brain was left reeling. Satiated from the expectation of pleasing him, but reeling just the same.

The weekend’s adventure started on the ride to the airport to pick him up. I hadn’t eaten yet and I knew he’d be full from whatever they served him on the international flight…plus whatever he liberated from the Delta lounge in Hong Kong and when the non-gay, old, cantankerous flight attendants weren’t looking. You’d be surprised just how much that man can snatch when you turn your head away for 10 seconds. It scares even me. Anyway, I decided to stop by a fast food place and pick up a couple of burgers, some fries and a soft drink. Sure, it was mostly for me, but it was also to appease my hubby. He’d need appeasement. After spending over a week appeasing the beast, he was going to insist I appease him. It’s all about the appeasing in that family and about the white guy being the bitch.

Pookie called to tell me he’d landed and I told him I had an offering of food. He declined with “I ate and I don’t think I could stomach anything else.” It’s a lie. Oh, he ate, but I know his tummy and it was sending his brain false messages! It was laying a trap for me, but I was wiser. No sooner did I drive up, stow his gear and pull away when his aforementioned lying shit of a stomach caught the scent of food and dove for the bag. Those poor fries. That’s all I’m saying.

As always, we walked into the flat, he opened his three bags and every item in them literally exploded all over our floor. He’s known for this. A suitcase could have a single item packed in it, yet he will find a way to make sure it winds up in the middle of the floor and in the most inopportune place. It’s a gift. I know. I’ve heard him say it. But I don’t complain this time, mostly because I don’t step on anything.

It’s right about then it dawns on him that I haven’t raised his wrath. Not once. Not only did I ignore what his stomach said and provide food, but I also haven’t expressed my dismay at his method of unpacking. This gives him all the suspicion he needs, so he reaches in and hands me…are you ready for this?…my new phone. It’s the upgrade to the one we bought last year. It’s a Sony Android and it’s beautiful! And like with Pookie, it’s waiting to spring its trap.

It looks very similar to my previous phone, but there are some very, very subtle differences that totally frack me up from the moment the power is turned on and it stares back at me. It knows. Pookie has told it about me and it knows that it will learn about me far quicker than I will ever learn about it. Not only is the touch interface different from the previous screens, but the f***ing keyboard is just different enough to throw me off, too! And this f***ing auto spell function? I’m going to kill it. I’m not an app person either. The fewer the apps, the better. It’s got more. Way more. It’s got $hit I didn’t even realize was available in app form and would never have chosen myself. It’s a total crock of f***ing $hit!

Pookie chuckles to himself as I smile and struggle with setting the weather app–which is still f***ed up–turn on the wireless–which I couldn’t f***ing find–where to put my e-mail address for Gmail, ignoring the Facebook app which I refuse to use, ignore the app to add my work e-mail because that just isn’t going to happy–they’ll expect me to monitor it and reply!–and, God help me, I have Angry Birds again. The struggle takes a good long time and it’s not until Pookie tells me he’s ready for my debriefing that I take a break. My debriefing leads to his debriefing and a rather large pile of clothes on the floor. He may be all about the appeasement, but I’m all about the debriefing and there’s nothing brief about the way I debrief. I’m just sayin’.

Finally, at the end of the night, I stood at the sink trying to floss while my guy stood fiddling with his phone right next to me. RIGHT next to me. As in so close I couldn’t actually extend my arms to properly floss. So I ask him:

“Would you please give me some room?”

He stares at me out of the corner of his eye, annoyed with my request because what he’s doing so obviously needs to be done in the bathroom at the sink. I finish and start brushing my teeth, only he’s now standing in such a way that he’s taking up half the sink.

“Would…you…please…give…me…some…room?”

Pookie, the love of my life, my future husband, the one and only who’d recently debriefed me, slowly turned his head, his lip curled and I heard:

“Exactly how much space do you need? Stand sideways.”

Gotta love him. No, really. Ya gotta love him, otherwise I’d be spending most of my time trying to explain reality to him and he’d still stare at me with disdain, then ignore me. Unfortunately, our fun was short-lived since we had to be up at 4am on Sunday in order to get him to the airport for his flight back to work.

BUT…Pookalicious Wookie Buns will be returning in a week and a half for Thanksgiving.

Stay Tuned!
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Kage Alan is The Cannonball Run watching, John Williams listening author of “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My Sexual Orientation,” “Andy Stevenson Vs. the Lord of the Loins” and the first book in a separate series, “Gaylias: Operation Thunderspell.” He ended up watching Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallows Part 2 twice over the weekend and while there were two perfect let’s-cheer-out-loud moments, the film itself felt tired. Either the actors were tired or the direction was. Either way, it’s over.